Bed Bath
by Thorkone
Summary: Hawkeye takes a moment to torment a young caregiver during an ER visit. One-shot. Written to torment KennaWynters while she should be studying ;)


**This was originally written as a couple hundred words in a PM to KennaWynters to torment her with visions of hot naked men while she's in training. I decided to expand it a little so she'd have something more to think about instead working on assignments.**

**~TK**

* * *

There was something about springtime that brought out the worst in people. It probably wasn't actually springtime, but rather cabin fever. And people were finally out and about again, and could interact with one another. And after a long winter of forced isolation, usually that meant they'd forgotten how to socially interact with one another. One thing let to another, and there were more car accidents, more fights. More injuries relating to out-of-shape winter bodies hitting the pavement.

All these factors combined to make the hospital busier than usual. Every bed was occupied, and there were off-service patients everywhere. Hot pink notices were posted in every hallway, corridor, elevator, staircase, announcing the 'code gridlock' and asking doctors to discharge any patients that could be safely sent home. Staff was being pulled from everywhere to cover shortages.

Which was exactly how Kenna wound up working in the ER. The ER couldn't keep up with demand and the RNs were run ragged. The most basic tasks were not being completed for hours, slowing things down considerably. In an effort to help speed turnover along, the Director of Nursing had determined a Care Aid shift would help to alleviate some of the burden. So Kenna had arrived to work, thinking it was going to be her usual shift in the gerontology unit, washing, feeding, mobilizing and generally caring for the oldies. What she wound up doing was entirely different.

"Clean the gurneys between patients, run blood when needed, empty bedpans, whatever we're too busy for." The head nurse explained when Kenna arrived on the floor.

It hadn't been hard to stay busy. Everyone was eager to have the assistance, and Kenna found herself moving between patients and gurneys at a nearly frantic pace. She was barely aware of the excited murmurs that started when the gunshot wound came it. She heard it, but wasn't really paying attention.

"Kenna, the gunshot guy in curtain 2 has discharge orders, but he's quite a mess. It's just stitches, but there was a lot of blood. Can you help wash him up?" One of the younger nurses asked as she ran by to get to an incoming trauma.

Kenna finished the gurney she was pulling linens across quickly and walked over to curtain 2, and pulled it back to see what she was dealing with. She stepped in and looked up into the cold, steady gaze of a really hot guy she'd seen on TV before. What was his name? Her dad always teased her because she had such a hard time remembering the 'superhero' names. Eagleman? Birdface? HAWKEYE! That was his name. Hawkeye was laying on the gurney, looking a little pale. The lack of colour did not detract from his handsomeness, but accented the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw. His clothes and quiver were sticking out of a personal items bag, and the sheet covering him had fallen to his waist. Kenna tried to pull her gaze away from the well-sculpted muscles of his bare chest, the powerful shoulders and arms, and found herself trapped staring. She forced herself to blink and avert her gaze. His bow was resting on the chair beside the gurney, and when Kenna opened her eyes and looked at it his eyes followed. And he scowled, like the thing had betrayed him.

"Can I help you?" His words were slow, drawn out. He looked her up and down, his gaze so intense that Kenna felt stripped bare.

"I will be right back." She grabbed the washbasin from the bedside table and escaped from behind the curtain to fill it. While the water was warming up, Kenna flipped open his chart. A superficial gunshot wound to the left medial thigh. The doctor's notes say it's a miracle his femoral artery wasn't hit. A cold sweat broke out on Kenna's forehead. Anatomy had been her strength in training. She'd destroyed it. So she knew on reading 'medial thigh' that the wound was in a delicate area, but she knew good and goddamn well that the femoral artery was about as close as it gets to where the good times happen.

She finished filling the washbasin, grabbed a washcloth and towel and took a deep, fortifying breath before heading back behind his curtain.

"Mr. Barton. The doctor has discharge orders ready for you. Do you need help washing up, or can I leave this with you?" Kenna hoped to save her sanity by offering to let him clean himself, but she could feel the flush creeping up her cheeks, and looked at the floor nervously. He was really attractive. Her hands were shaking with embarrassment and nerves, as her brain flooded her with images of his lean body under the thin sheet. She could feel her pulse racing.

"I think I'll probably need some help." His voice was a low rumble, and when Kenna looked back at him, he was smirking as though he could read her mind.


End file.
